


Of Fathers and Sons

by vega_voices



Series: Come Rain, Come Shine [47]
Category: Murphy Brown (TV)
Genre: Distant Fathers, F/M, Fractured family, Gen, mature relationships, step parenting, these two idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 04:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17697734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vega_voices/pseuds/vega_voices
Summary: “Dad, this is Peter Hunt. Peter, this is my father, Bill Brown.”





	Of Fathers and Sons

**Title:** Of Fathers and Sons  
**Author:** vegawriters  
**Fandom:** Murphy Brown  
**Series:** Come Rain, Come Shine  
**Pairing:** Murphy Brown/Peter Hunt  
**Rating:** Gen  
**Timeframe:** Season 8  
**A/N:** Guys, we gotta deal with Murphy’s dad and brother at some point, right?  
**Disclaimer:** This all belongs to Warner Bros, Diane English, and well, that whole factor that isn’t me. I’m just having far too much fun exploring a side of Murphy that was only ever hinted at. The side I think we’d have seen if the show had been a drama.

 **Summary:** “Dad, this is Peter Hunt. Peter, this is my father, Bill Brown.”

The doorbell startled all of them out of a mid-afternoon weekend haze. Murphy had started to doze during his reading of The Hobbit to Avery, and really, he was trying not to be insulted. He even sang the songs!

But it also heartened him to know she trusted him enough to sleep like this in his presence. She had since the beginning - letting him watch movies with Avery while she fell asleep on the couch. This was how he’d always envisioned domestic bliss.

“Pizza!” Avery hollered, racing for the door. Obviously every doorbell was pizza. They … needed to fix that.

Peter met Murphy’s eyes and then clambored to his feet. He was still sore since the explosion. His shoulder ached and his knee twinged. He hated to let it show, especially since he knew Murphy was still haunted by the news reports. But, he gritted his teeth as he stood up and the pressure he put on his knees the first couple of steps and he knew Murphy saw. He appreciated though, that she knew better than to feed him sympathy, so she let him chase after the kid. “Hold up, bud.” Peter cautioned as he pulled on the doorknob. “We didn’t order pizza.”

He opened the door to reveal a squat man in his seventies. He was bald, slightly stooped, and there was something about his eyes that reminded him of Murphy. He’d seen this man before. Where?

Avery answered the question.

“Granpa!”

“Dad!” Murphy called as she skidded into the foyer, her voice laced with panic and surprise. Avery was already up in the man’s arms and it took a lot for Peter not to reclaim his son from this stranger. “What are you doing here?” Murphy cried. “Why didn’t you call?”

“I had a stop through town, thought I’d come and visit. It’s been too long since I’ve seen this little guy and …” Peter felt the other man’s eyes on him. Peter sized him up right back. “And well, hello.”

“Dad, this is Peter Hunt. Peter, this is my father, Bill Brown.” He heard the hesitation before the introduction, the questions in her mind as to how to introduce him. It was okay. He wasn’t sure either right now.

“Peter Hunt,” Bill held out a hand. “You’re the CBS foreign correspondent guy. Likes to do your reports standing on tanks.” He paused. “And you’re the guy my Suzie-Q almost married a while ago. Got yourself blown up in Mogadishu.”

“Well,” Peter shook Bill’s hand and then reached for Avery, who came willingly. He felt better holding his son close. “I wouldn’t say I like to stand on tanks. But the image works. Most of the time. Mogadishu was an outlier.” He met Murphy’s eyes and smiled a bit. “As for almost marrying Murphy, almost doesn’t mean never.” She blushed. He kissed her cheek.

“Love to talk to you about your experiences but first!” Bill turned his attention back to Murphy. “Ahhh, Suzie-Q!” She let him wrap her in an awkward hug. “You look good.”

“You too, Dad. What happened? You get kicked out again?”

Peter raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Bill gave her a look. Murphy shrugged and pushed the door shut. “I’m in town for meetings. I’m making the transition and handing off the paper and that means some travel. That’s all.”

“You’re retiring?” Murphy shook her head. Peter frowned. Wouldn’t she have known this? “Wait. Come on in and sit down. Do you want anything?”

“Water would be great.”

Peter made the “I’ll get it” nod and set Avery down so he could follow the adults into the living room. Murphy moved the toys from the couch and closed the book, waving her father to a seat. “Um, I’m going to go grab Avery a snack. I’ll be right back.” She followed him into the kitchen and grabbed his arm.

“We need to find out what the hell he’s doing here.”

“Murphy …”

She stared into his eyes. “My father never just drops by. The last time he was here, it was Avery’s first Christmas and he came because his wife had kicked him out. We are not close. I don’t know what he wants. But if he offers to stay here, I’m going to kill him. Do you understand?”

Peter searched for a way to force her off of the path she was already on. “We can have sex really loudly tonight and scare him off.”

Murphy smacked his arm. He just grinned. “Careful. You’ll spill your dad’s water.”

She glared at him and yanked open the fridge, grabbing a baggie of Avery’s vegetables and a juice box. “The man is in his seventies and he’s still strutting around like what?”

“He’s retiring. I don’t think he’s strutting.” He watched her fidget. “And why didn’t you tell me your dad owned a newspaper.”

“Because …” she stopped and looked at him. “Honestly … I thought you knew. Brown Publishing. They have offices in Philly and Chicago and New York. They aren’t the Tribune Corp, but he’s done okay by print journalism.” She glanced out the door. “In his day, dad was a pretty good journalist, actually.”

Peter shook his head. “Wow. My first job was for Brown Publishing. So, apparently, we’re fated.”

She groaned and walked past him. “Let’s go find out why he’s here.”

They emerged into the living room to find Bill playing with Avery and he looked up and smiled. “He really does look just like your brother.”

Peter coughed and almost spilled the water he was handing over. Brother? Three years into this and he was just now learning about her brother? What the hell? He met her eyes again and she shot him her patented “I will explain later” look. She set Avery’s snack down on the coffee table.

“Dad? What are you doing here?”

“I meant what I said,” the older man replied, leaning back on the couch. Avery was happy to keep playing with his blocks. “It’s time to pass on the work and I’m just making some trips, trying to get everything in order and squared away with the lawyers.

“How’s Karen taking this?” Murphy sank into a chair and held out her arms for Avery. He ignored her.

“Retirement was her idea …” Bill let out a long sigh. “Pretty much her last straw. I retire or it’s over for good.”

Peter watched, flummoxed. “I’m just impressed she hasn’t completely thrown you out yet.”

“It’s been contentious,” Bill said with a sad shake of his head. “But I want to make it work.”

God, he had questions.

“So, Peter,” Bill leaned forward, catching his attention. “What on earth did you do to earn my little girl’s heart?”

Okay. This he could handle. “It isn’t as hard as everyone thinks it is,” he said, locking eyes with Murphy. “Just respect her, give her space, and don’t tell her what story you’re working on.”

Murphy pursed her lips. He was going to pay for that one. “He’s a good man, Dad. And Avery loves him.”

Avery looked up at the sound of his name and grinned. “Dat’s my dad,” he said to Bill, pointing to Peter. It never got old hearing it.

Bill’s eyes widened and he looked at Murphy. “That’s … impressive.”

“He isn’t wrong,” Murphy retorted. “Peter is every bit his father. Moreso than his biological one.” She sighed. “I saw your bags …”

“Don’t worry about that, Murphy! I’ve got a room at the Plaza. You were just my first stop off the train. In fact, why don’t I call a cab and go get settled and we can all go to dinner later.”

Peter stepped in. “Actually, if you can wait for a little bit, we can just get ready and I can drive you down to your hotel. There is a kid-friendly place near the Plaza, we can take Avery.”

“That’s wonderful!” Bill clapped his hands together. Both men ignored Murphy’s death glare, but this had to happen sometime and frankly, Peter wanted to control as much of the situation as he could.

***

“So?” Peter stretched out on the couch and watched Murphy pace while she picked up Avery’s toys. Bill was back at his hotel and Avery was asleep and Peter was going to suss out this little detail she’d kept from him. Well he was going to try. She was busy pretending to dust the shelves. “You have a brother?”

“I’m biologically related to a kid who lives in Chicago,” Murphy shot back. Peter took a breath. She was clearly on edge about this and he knew better than to push that tone. “He’s … seven, I think. Six? He’s barely older than Avery, really.”

Seven.

The image became clear. So much clearer. Peter sat up. “Oh …”

“Can we drop it now?” She stood in front of the mantle, arms crossed in front of her. Peter sat up and met her eyes.

“How much younger is she?”

Murphy stared at him. “I asked if we could drop it.”

“Murphy.”

She sighed. “She’s younger than me. Younger than you, okay? She’s barely older than Corky.”

Peter could feel the hurt radiating from her, and it didn’t take skills in journalism to land a good feel for exactly where her worries about him being younger than her came from. Her own father had apparently left her mother for a woman who wasn’t even born when Murphy came along.

Everything made sense. From the jitters their first time together to her pushing him away after the miscarriage. God. No wonder she was so anxious about their age difference. Even now. All this time and trauma into their relationship, she still kept him partly at arm’s length. This wall made more sense than just about any of them. Pushing himself to his feet, Peter walked over to where she tried to shrink from him, and took her hands in his. “Hey …hey.”

“Peter …”

“Stop.” She stared at him. He stared back. “Can I tell you something?”

“I don’t think I have a choice.”

He almost smiled. Instead he kissed her fingers. “I’m not your father.”

“Is that … what?” She pulled her hands back. “Look, my dad just makes me really anxious.” Peter let her have the cover up, because it was clear, she was anxious. “He pops in whenever he needs something, not when I need something. I mean, he didn’t even RSVP to the wedding.”

That hit him. Hard. Peter blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“You said he couldn’t come. You said something about work.” Why hadn’t she told him the truth? Then, she answered him.

“Your entire family was participating, Peter. Your niece was going to be a flower girl. How embarrassing for me to say by the way, my dad is an asshole and didn’t even bother to RSVP.” She glanced up at the ceiling. “He gets on my case, saying he always feel like I push him away and then he does things like that. And he can hurt me all he wants but I don’t want him hurting Avery.”

The truth hurt, but with every word, he understood just a little bit more. Especially since so much of the planning had come after the miscarriage, when she was trying so hard to hold it all together. Of course she hadn’t wanted to admit her own father wasn’t coming. After all, he’d show up with his young wife and her younger brother and be reminded of everything he knew she was still trying to forget.

It was a familiar position for them. Her leaning against the mantle, his hands on her arms, her looking up into his eyes. How often had they been here over the last two years? How often had they told each other and themselves they were terrible and lousy and no good at relationships all the while standing right here, talking something out. Something told him they were already far better at this than her parents had ever been.

“I don’t want him hurting either of you. But something tells me that after all these years, you have to stop expecting him to be anything other than who he is. And who he is sounds like a flake of a father who puts his own happiness first because he doesn’t know anything else.”

“It’s crap,” Murphy muttered. “I mean,” she sighed. “You’re right and I learned that a long time ago but it’s a lesson that’s easier lived when he’s in Chicago.”

“Fair point.” Peter searched her eyes and when he could tell she wasn’t going to slug him, he leaned in for a kiss, which she returned. Her arms moved around his neck and he hugged her close. “It’s okay,” he murmured as her cheek pressed against his.

“I know,” she said. She kissed him again and when she pulled back, he could see her settle. “And tomorrow, I’ll let him take Avery to the park, like he asked.”

“Would it make you feel better if I tagged along?”

“Are you going to pump him for information?” She raised an eyebrow.

Peter huffed, but he knew he’d been busted. “Probably. But, only in the interest of loving you.”

“You still love me, hmmm?”

“Murphy Brown, I’m loving you until the end of time and you don’t have a single say in that matter. How does that make you feel?”

She groaned. “Diabetic.”

A laugh escaped him and Peter tugged his arms around her and started to pull her back up to bed. “Deal with it.”

***

Bill Brown wasn’t a bad grandfather, Peter could tell. He enjoyed playing with Avery, listened to his babbling, and wasn’t afraid of the work that went into corralling him into the car, into his car seat, and back again.

“I missed all of this with Murphy,” he said, finally, sitting next to Peter on a bench while they watched Avery and his friend Sean chase each other around the playground. “I wanted to do better with Billy but … I’ve still screwed so much up. It’s one reason I’m ready to sit still. I don’t want to miss more than I have.”

Peter followed Avery’s movements. “It is hard. When Murphy and I first got together, Avery couldn’t say Peter. He said Petwer. I got used to it. I really liked it. I went away for six weeks and when I came back, he was saying it correctly and I missed that change. And he grows every time I leave.”

“They do that.” Bill leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “How often are you gone?”

“Not as much since the explosion,” Peter admitted. “But even know it’s at least a week a month.”

“Kid has both yours and Murphy’s schedules to contend with.” Bill held up a hand, as if anticipating his argument. “I know she’s a great mom and I know she’s moved her life around to be with him. But there’s still a reality.” Fear poked at the edges of Peter’s skin. What was Bill getting at? “You’re gone a lot. So is she. Avery’s going to be closer to the nanny than to either of you.”

“Well, we’re lucky then because Reena is part of the family.” Peter chewed the inside of his cheek. What was Bill’s point here? Did he have a point? He was an old man with a young son and seeing his grandchild run around the park had to spark harsh emotions.

“He looks so much like his namesake,” Bill said. “I mean, I said last night he looks like Billy, but that was to cover. Avery was such a magnificent woman and he carries that in him. Murphy named him well.”

“I wish I’d known her.”

“You do.” Bill said, chuckling. “Murphy is her mother. Through and through. It takes a strong man to love them.” He sighed. “I wasn’t strong enough.”

Avery ran past, involved in a game of tag, and Peter grinned. “It isn’t about strength,” he said to the older man. “It isn’t about force. It’s about flexibility. After that, the rest comes a lot easier than you’d expect.”

“How long have you been together?”

“Three years,” Peter said.

“And you never wanted kids of your own?”

The pang hit hard. Peter sucked in a breath, pushing away the haunting memories of Murphy’s voice on the phone, the tears they’d both cried, the night he’d pushed her down on the couch. “I never wanted kids. Period.” He clarified. “And then I met Avery. I have a son now. Doesn’t matter who donated half of his DNA.”

Bill grew quiet. Peter didn’t push. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about this man who made Murphy squirm like she was back in the fifth grade. Just watching him, listening, he could hear the heavy handed expectations of a father whose daughter never quite measured up. How many times had she come home with an A- and been told she wasn’t good enough?

“I don’t know if I could do it,” Bill said. “I think I’d want children of my own.”

“Avery is mine,” Peter reiterated. “It isn’t like his other father is involved.”

“Do you know him?”

“I do.”

“And you don’t like him?”

Peter shrugged. “I think it takes more than a promise and a prayer to be a father. I think DNA is the least important factor.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“I know.”

“Murphy never told me who he was.”

“I’m not telling you either.” Peter let out a breath but was saved from saying anything else by Avery running up, tired and dirty. Across the park, Sean’s nanny was scooping him up as well. “You ready for lunch, bud?”

Avery nodded.

“You want to go get your mom and see if we can go to Phil’s and have some fries?”

Suddenly Avery wasn’t tired anymore. “Yes!”

Peter chuckled. Avery took off for the car and Bill lagged behind, the day seemingly catching up with him. “Sit back here, Granpa!” Avery cried, as he came to the car. Bill chuckled and crawled into the backseat of the range rover. Peter started the jeep and turned them toward the office.

***

He knew she wasn’t asleep. She’d begged off any physical attention, but donned his Bullets t-shirt before climbing between the sheets. She’d turned off her light, snuggled down in the blankets, and fell silent. Peter didn’t push. He checked on Avery one last time, said goodnight to Reena, and took his time getting ready for bed. He gave her the space she needed, knowing she’d want to put off any last conversations about her father until he was gone.

But once he clicked off his light, she surprised him.

“You’ve been so good this weekend with my dad and Avery. I hid. It’s what I always do with him.”

Peter spooned against her, relieved when she pressed back into his body.

“I’ve never forgiven him for stepping out on my mother. He didn’t want her to work … he wasn’t faithful to her. And now he’s all grown up and I’m supposed to accept him for all of those flaws? He’s here and she isn’t. He had that second chance at life. A second chance he took when he left her for a woman younger than his own daughter.”

Peter let her vent.

“But he’s still my dad, you know.”

“My relationship with my father isn’t all that great either,” Peter said, kissing her shoulder. “He’s never forgiven me for getting thrown out of seminary school.”

“He doesn’t know the truth, does he?”

“Neither of my parents do. But it started before then, really. The break came when I got kicked out.” He sighed. “I feel like sometimes, I could tell my mom. But my dad wouldn’t let me in the house ever again.”

Her hand moved over his, linking their fingers. “I’m not in the will,” she said. “I found this out after my mom died. I was in hers, but I’m not in his.”

“What?” Peter sat up just a bit. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’ve never given him exactly what he wanted. Or, he assumes I don’t need him. Either way, it doesn’t matter. What you saw this weekend is who Bill Brown is. He’s charming and charismatic and dispenses affection on his terms.”

“He loves you,” Peter said, gently. “As a father, I can tell.”

She was quiet for a long time. Long enough that Peter assumed she’d fallen asleep and he worried he’d said the wrong thing and she’d wake up cranky. But then she took a deep, shaky breath. “There’s a difference between loving and acting on that love. You could be gone for years at a time and Avery would still feel loved and supported by you. My dad could be around full time and I’d still wonder.” She sighed. “But thank you for the reassurance.”

“Any time.”

“And if you ever decide to tell your folks what really happened in Seminary school … I’ll be there with you.”

Peter blinked back a few tears. His sexuality was not often a topic of conversation for them, and he was okay with that. It wasn’t something that weighed on him. But the fact that she made the offer meant everything to him. “Thank you.”

She turned in his arms and in the dim light from outside, he met her eyes. “I mean it every time I say it, but thank you for being such a damn good father to Avery.”

“Thank you for letting me.” He kissed her softly. The kiss ended gently, and he rolled to his back, gently bringing her along with him. She cuddled her head on his chest and he fell asleep with her hand stroking lightly through the hair on his chest.


End file.
